


Minima

by cerie



Series: M is for Masochist [1]
Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: F/M, Mild D/s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-30
Updated: 2013-08-30
Packaged: 2017-12-25 01:48:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/947173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cerie/pseuds/cerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She thinks it’s possibly dangerous to have this kind of relationship when they’re not <i>in</i> a relationship but boyfriend or not, there’s nobody she trusts more than Will McAvoy. She knows there’s absolutely no way he’d hurt her or push her past the boundaries she’s set and when she’s exhausted and at her lowest point, Will seems to know just how to break her so she can get the catharsis she so desperately needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Minima

**Author's Note:**

> Very mild D/s, if that's triggering.

She owns him between eight and nine on weeknights but every once in a while, MacKenzie needs to atone and Will is more than willing to let her. It’s not a kinky relationship in the traditional sense. It’s not all the time. It’s not even very often. But every once in a while, MacKenzie wants her hair pulled a little harder and her mouth used a little rougher and Will obliges her. 

She thinks it’s possibly dangerous to have this kind of relationship when they’re not _in_ a relationship but boyfriend or not, there’s nobody she trusts more than Will McAvoy. She knows there’s absolutely no way he’d hurt her or push her past the boundaries she’s set and when she’s exhausted and at her lowest point, Will seems to know just how to break her so she can get the catharsis she so desperately needs.

Of late, she’s been running herself into the ground about Genoa and the retraction, about how she didn’t catch the error in the raw footage before it had already gone to air. She’s drinking more, sleeping less and fucking up the most basic of job functions. She’s three weeks into her self-applied punishment when Will tips his head toward his office, wanting a private word. She’s annoyed because she doesn’t have _time_ for it but she goes anyway, standing in front of his desk with her hands on her hips. 

Will pulls a cigarette out of his desk and lights it, taking a drag before nodding toward the door. “Pull it closed, MacKenzie. Private conversation.” MacKenzie frowns a little deeper and crosses the room to pull the door shut and once it is, she turns and stalks back toward him, eyes bright with anger.

“Will, goddammit, I have too much to do today to play your fucking games. What the hell do you want?”

He takes another drag, infinitely patient, and tips the ash off the end of his cigarette before laying it against the edge of the ashtray, still lit. “Not exactly about what I want, MacKenzie, it’s about what you need. When was the last time you slept?” She throws up her hands, already exasperated with this line of questioning and this is the first time she’s gotten it today. She’s heard this song and dance before and she’s fucking sick of it. 

“I sleep! Besides, no news producer in America is getting much sleep right now with the election going on. I’m hardly the first or the last.” She watches as Will’s eyes flick toward the glass windows to his office, as if judging who’s currently in the bullpen and who might walk by, and he tugs her close by the ACN lanyard around her neck. He presses his lips against her cheek and she smells smoke and bourbon.

“Tonight, you’re coming to my place. Right after the show. Don’t go home first, come straight to me. Do you understand?”

His words are carefully measured, even, and brook no argument. MacKenzie thinks about protesting for a moment and ultimately decides against it; their whole arrangement is at her insistence since she doesn’t particularly think Will gets off on having a woman submit to him. He gets off on _MacKenzie_ and is willing to mold himself into anything she needs. When she’d explained to him what Brian could give her that he didn’t, that Brian could bring her low and make her blank, Will had finally understood why she’d cheated and decided to slowly start letting her in again. It’s not the best progress, considering he’d broken the whole thing off to date Nina for a few months, but it’s something. His willingness to consider what she needed had been a pleasant surprise and MacKenzie wishes she’d broached the subject the first time around.

“I’ll be there. Right after the show.”

***

MacKenzie actually turns up a little later than expected because she’d ended up dealing with Jim and his desire to have some Romney ex-staffer on as a guest during their election coverage and she’d had to interview the woman to ensure she wasn’t an idiot. Taylor had turned out to be the one who’d tipped her off on Jim giving his time with the candidate away and they’d had a lovely enough chat but it had lingered far too long.

She’s still breathless when the doorman lets her up and when the elevator opens, Will’s standing there, eyes dark and cigarette lit. He finishes it, stubs it out, and motions her close. “Come here, MacKenzie.” It’s always MacKenzie when they’re like this. It’s never Mac or anything remotely close to a pet name, always MacKenzie, and he is always Will. Billy is for sweet moments afterward, moments when her emotions get the better of her, and never in this kind of play.

She closes the distance between them and he grips her arms lightly. It’s a firm grip, yes, but far from bruising. Just as she has rules about this, so does Will, and his hard and fast rule is that he will never, ever hurt her. The moment he hurts her is the moment all this stops and he doesn’t care what the fuck she thinks about it. MacKenzie hadn’t fully understood that until he explained _everything_ about his father, about how he’d treated his mother and about how at the age of ten he had to stand up and fight to protect them. He won’t lay a hand on her for these reasons and MacKenzie doesn’t dare push it. While she wouldn’t mind, Will does, and this has to be consensual on both sides. 

“I think I want you on your knees for me. Is that going to be a problem?” Will says it casually but it still sends a little shiver down her spine. She nods slowly and kneels, quietly awaiting instruction once she’s knelt down before him. Will’s hand threads lightly through her hair and he laughs a little. “Come on, my cock isn’t going to suck itself. Get to it, MacKenzie.” It’s enough of an instruction that MacKenzie nods and undoes his jeans, sliding her mouth along his cock and doing her best to make it good for him. He grips her hair tighter, winding his fingers in it, and he pushes her head down, forcing her throat to relax. This is something _she_ likes even if she suspects Will would rather be gentle and MacKenzie whimpers and relaxes her throat, taking him as deep as she can. After a few moments of that, of feeling him brush against the back of her throat and his hands curl deep into her hair, Will abruptly pulls her off and tugs her to her feet. 

“You’re too good at that,” he says, and there’s a sparkle in his eye that indicates it’s praise even if he’s trying to be stern. Will isn’t the best at hiding his emotions sometimes and MacKenzie prides herself on being able to read him. “Go to my bedroom. Undress. Wait for me and _don’t_ touch yourself.” These are easy enough instructions to follow and MacKenzie does as he asks, settling on the edge of the bed to wait for him to come in. 

She waits. And waits. And waits long enough that she almost calls out for him before remembering that’s probably against the arbitrary rules set up for the evening. It feels like hours have passed when he finally comes in the room and his eyes flick up and down her body before motioning for her to stand up. He leads her over to the wide windows, moving to stand behind her, and presses his lips up against her ear. 

“What if I wanted to get you off right here, MacKenzie? Would you let me do that?” She knows that in a building this pricey, nobody wants to spoil their view with blinds or curtains and she knows it’s tinted glass, made private somehow. Still, she can look out and see the city below and she feels very, very exposed. “I would let you,” she murmurs, voice catching a little when his hand cups one of her breasts, teasing her nipple into a stiff peak. 

She would more than let him. The problem is, she’d let Will McAvoy do anything he damn well pleased to her. 

“I think I will,” he says, kissing down her neck and shoulder while he slides his hand lower. He works his hand between her thighs, spreading them wide, and teases her slowly. “Keep looking out that window, MacKenzie. I want you counting cars.” She wonders for a moment if he’s serious but when she doesn’t start counting, his fingers stop moving. She hurriedly counts two, four; she’s in the mid twenties when two fingers crook into her and his thumb starts moving rapidly over her clit. She’s up to forty five when he backs off, her voice is raspy on the way to fifty. It’s only when she’s in the seventies does he take pity on her, bringing her off, and MacKenzie lets out a choked little sob as she collapses back against him.

 

“Shhh,” he soothes, bringing her back to bed. The tears are more a result of three weeks of pent up stress and anger about Genoa than anything he’s done and she thinks Will is aware. His hands are soft and soothing as he pulls back the blankets and tucks her into bed and when he strips and joins her, he’s impossibly gentle. MacKenzie is dimly aware she’s still crying while he’s moving in her and Will kisses her face, presses his lips against her ear.

“We’re good, right? Everything’s okay?” The concern in his voice is almost enough to tip her into crying again but she doesn’t. She knows that what he does for her is for _her_ and the last thing he wants is to hurt her. Even though the tears are cathartic and what she wants, they have absolutely nothing to do with _Will_. “We’re perfect,” she promises.

Afterward, he draws her into his arms and orders her, none too gently, to sleep. MacKenzie curls up and pillows her head on his chest and does precisely that. 

It’s the most sleep she’s had in a month.


End file.
